


Light and Life Fleeing Together

by ancestrallizard



Category: Fate/Grand Order, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gen, OC Fujimaru Ritsuka
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:54:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26003752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ancestrallizard/pseuds/ancestrallizard
Summary: Kanzaki Kaname and his Berserker were out of sync - clumsy and uncoordinated, like a poem fighting back against its poet. Chief among their issues, Kaname thought, was that Berserker wouldn’t listen to him.
Kudos: 7





	Light and Life Fleeing Together

**Author's Note:**

> Very Late art trade gift fic for Soraba on the FGO OC discord, featuring their Master OC, Kaname Kanzaki

Kanzaki Kaname and his Berserker were out of sync - clumsy and uncoordinated, like a poem fighting back against its poet. Chief among their issues, Kaname thought, was that Berserker wouldn’t listen to him. 

When Kaname ordered Berserker to go right, he’d go left. He was conspicuously absent when Kaname needed him close to their party, leaving Kaname to prop up their defenses with his own fire and wind magic. Berserker was always eager to start a fight, but loathe to stop – after obliterating his enemies, he’d keep hunting for more, even when Kaname called on him to retreat. Whenever he returned, he offered no excuse or apology, or acknowledgement of anything Kaname said.

It was embarrassing, as a Master. Beyond that, it was dangerous. Chaldea could not afford Kaname failing his duties. 

After one such fight, Fujimaru patted his shoulder sympathetically. He’d been injured, and the way his eye swelled shut made his smile twist oddly. “Don’t worry. You’ll get it.”

After Fujimaru was dragged off by Mash to get his eye looked at, Kaname touched his pendant. It was an old necklace, strung with a small piece of amber, and he rarely went anywhere without it. In moments of stress he could grip it, breathe, and refocus his mind on the challenge at hand.

Now, though, it just felt like a rock on a chain, weighing him down with responsibilities he couldn’t meet and legacies he couldn’t fulfill. 

//

Kaname summoned Berserker inadvertently not five minutes after he, Fujimaru, and Mash returned from the North America rayshift. It was a shock, to put it mildly. 

Mash was the first person to move, immediately placing herself between Kaname and the strange new figure as it materialized, shield at the ready. 

Kaname was too stunned to do much – both by the sight of the Servant and the sensation of summoning. It was excruciating; like his magical circuits were melting and freezing at the same time, as a command seal branded itself into his hand. 

The Berserker introduced himself calmly, almost cordially. There were no strange muttering or hidden snarl in his voice when he nodded to Kaname and asked in a deep baritone, “Are you my Master?”

Kaname didn’t know him at all, then. He didn’t recognize the barely-there glaze in his eyes, the slight detachment from reality that could bloom into full-blown madness at a moment’s notice. He was overwhelmed by the sight of his servant – _his servant!_ – standing there, towering like a mountain and wrapped in lean chords of muscle, bronzed skin layered with scars and tattoos.

This was the answer to the pendant he wore around his neck. This was the manifestation of a tangible connection to his family. Most importantly, this was a way to finally help Chaldea and their mission in a greater capacity than just another mage.

//

“How do you do it?” Kaname asked Fujimaru one day in a burst of desperation. “How do you connect with your Berserkers? Or any of the Servants?”

It took Fujimaru a few moments to respond. Kaname didn’t blame him – they were in the desert now, it was hot, and he looked a few steps away from heat exhaustion.

Eventually, Fujimaru answered. “You sort of –“ He made a wavy motion with his hand that Kaname had no idea how to decipher. “You sort of, feel it out. Gotta vibe with ‘em.”

Kaname sighed through his nose. Fujimaru was many things – brave to the point of reckless, kind to the point of self-sacrificing – but a teacher he was not. 

Kaname always had to work to learn anything, with practice and observation and more practice. He liked it that way; he knew how to learn anything inside out, if he just applied himself. Fujimaru, on the other hand, seemed to posses some natural talent when it came to summoning. He picked up on being a master stunningly fast, and while it saved a their necks, also meant he could struggle to explain how he did what he did.

“What does that mean, exactly?”

Fujimaru shrugged, looking genuinely apologetic. “I don’t know. I’m sorry. It’s just a feeling I get.”

Kaname’s glance flickered briefly to Fujimaru’s hands, coated in layers of command seals that snaked up his arms and under his shirt like ivy on a decrepit building. This was the strategy commanding so many servants?

“You’ll get there.” Fujimaru tried to reassure him. “You two are a lot alike. Just don’t overthink it.”

Kaname frowned. How on Earth was he like Berserker?

“Considering all that’s at stake, I don’t think we can overthink it,” he said, a little testily. 

Fujimaru blinked. “Oh, yeah. Maybe I’m under-thinking it?”

“Almost certainly.” Kaname shook his head. “And you manage with a strategy like that!”

Fujimaru laughed. It wasn’t a happy sound. “Oh, I absolutely don’t.”

//

Kaname’s dreams warped after summoning Berserker.

Everything was a blur of sensation and emotion, with only a few consistent elements to cling to in the sea of confusion. There was whiteness and cold – snow - and sweetness on his tongue that might have been mead. There were bright flashes of flame, shouting at his back and around him. There’s a weight in his hand, heavy and metal. There’s fire and pain and blood, so much blood, on his hands and his skin and on his teeth.

Monsters were everywhere, lurking in the dark and out of sight, and he wanted to fight them, kill them. Had to. 

The dreams all ended the same. There were shouting hordes all around him, he was about to fight a monster, and he felt an emotion. Not fear, and not anger, exactly, but something else that seized his muscles and sent him headlong into his enemy, red-eyed and furious.

He couldn’t decipher the feeling, because every time he was about to fight, he blinked awake in confusion, and the memory of the dream vanished like water under the sun. 

//

Kaname knew that he could figure out what to do if he just had enough time. He could analyze Berserker’s actions, how he behaved, what he liked, and find a way to convince Berserker to follow his orders.

But time was the one resource they did not have. Chaldea its inhabitants working to save humanity were being mercilessly worn down every single day. There was no chance to rest, barely any chance to think.

Again, they fought monsters in the desert. Again, Berserker would not listen to him.

//

Kaname was used to a certain degree of separation from those around him. After the loss of his parents, he felt as if a key part of himself had snapped and healed crooked. He cared about others, but whether subconsciously or not he always ended up cultivating a distance around himself and other people, always a little bit nervous.

For whatever reason, Chaldea and its people completely circumvented that. Every day spent on the field with Fujimaru and Mash, or in Chaldea, in Da Vinci’s lab or talking with Roman, only strengthened the feeling and brought him closer to them. 

He cared about them. And because he cared, he quickly noticed that his new friends were breaking down.

The sight of Mash collapsing with blood on her face rattled him to his core. He began to notice after the third singularity that Fujimaru wasn’t well, either. He flinched at inconspicuous, unthreatening things, and in quiet moments, Kaname saw that his eyes were glazed-over and distant. He never discussed it, but Kaname suspected he had frequent nightmares.

The future was bearing down relentless. Kaname had a terrible instinct that he would be party to yet another tragedy that he had no power to stop.

//

Once, only once, when Berserker still wasn’t listening and he was more tired than he thought possible, Kaname considered using a Command Seal. The red sigil still sat on the back of his hand, untouched and pulsing softly. Invitingly.

What did it exist for, a voice whispered in the back of his mind, except to be used in situations just like this?

Yes, he remembered its purpose. Almost simultaneously, he remembered what it was like living in a strict household where he was cared for but not loved, having his own will and goals overwritten by others, and quietly despairing that he may never regain independence.

He recoiled from the possibility of using a seal like it was a hot iron. 

But the way Berserker turned and looked at him afterward, eyes flat and almost disappointed, made Kaname wonder if he knew that he’d been tempted.

//

In the desert, they were being attacked by yet another band of monsters when Kaname saw Fujimaru collapse, just as a straggler chimera charged him. 

He didn’t think. Kaname finished off the beast before him with flames so hot they burned blue and ran to the other master, planting himself between Fujimaru and the snarling chimera. His magic was exhausted, he was exhausted, but he still pulled up his last dregs and readied himself for the fight. Fire magic twisting around his arms, he braced himself for the impact of the monster hurling itself at him and claws tearing at his flesh – 

But – 

The blows never came. The chimera disappeared in a shower of blood and fur, and Berserker is standing in its place, completely drenched in gore.

He was still for a moment, locking eyes with Kaname for a heartbeat before disappearing to finish off the rest of the monsters.

Kaname helped the other Master to his feet. “Ritsuka?”   
His voice was small, and scared, and he hated it.

“M’fine.” He slurred. There was blood on his face and shirt, but none appeared to be his. Kaname relaxed a fraction.

All at once they were joined by Mash and Da Vinci and a bevy of very concerned servants. Kaname backed away so Fujimaru could be healed and took the moment to collect himself. His pride stung a little bit, but that wasn’t important.

Berserker ignored him, again, and it was what saved them.

//

The night after, Kaname and Berserker had midnight watch. Kaname was used to near-solitary watches, and Berserker’s presence now didn’t change that. Nothing broke the unnatural silence besides the softly smoldering embers from tiny campfire and the desert wind. Usually, they would staunchly ignore each other until the sun rose.

Kaname kept glancing between the lean-tos the rest of the group slept in, a patch of rocks – the only thing visible in the desert besides sand – and Berserker, who paced around the camp in a tight circle like a caged tiger. For being so large, he could move remarkably silently.

The next time Berserker wandered close, Kaname took the plunge. 

“I believe I should thank you.,” he said.

Berserker stared at him a second. “Huh?”

“For defending Fujimaru and I.” Kaname clarified.

Berserker blinked, looking almost surprised, before he threw his head back and laughed. Actually laughed!

Kaname, on the other hand, was equal parts confused and frustrated. His time with his foster family taught him to guard his feelings well, so he stayed stone-faced when he asked, “I’m sorry?”

“I’m your Servant,” He answered patiently, like he was explaining a fighting technique to a beginner. “I’m going to protect you no matter what. And you’re protecting them, so they count too.”

“Oh.”

“And it looks like I’ve got my work cut out for me.” He leaned back against one of the large exposed rocks. “Pretty reckless, facing that monster like that.”

“I had it under control,” Kaname argued. “And it wasn’t that dangerous.”

Berserker raised an eyebrow.

“It was a calculated risk,” He amended.

Berserker grinned. Kaname realized with some surprise that it was the first time he’d seen him smile when he wasn’t ripping something apart with his bare hands.

“I’m not saying it’s a bad thing,” The Servant said. “You rushed in without hesitating. It was a deed worthy of any of my thanes! I wouldn’t have done anything less.”

Kaname – didn’t really know how to feel about that.

“What I really want to know, though,” Berserker continued, “Is why you did it.”

Berserker’s stare was piercing and alert. Kaname had been preparing words if the conversation fell in this direction – appeals to his better nature, arguments about why it would be best for the both of them if Berserker would just listen to him – but for some reason, under the weight of that stare, he couldn’t articulate any of it. 

Instead, he confessed. “I can’t loose them. Any of them. Not here. Not like this.”

Berserker nodded. “Makes sense. They’re your people. Wouldn’t want my Master to act any other way.”

“My people?”

“Course.” He said. “They’re like your… your…” 

He struggled for words, before finally thumping his closed fist on his bare chest. “Your heart. Get it?”

“I…can’t say that I do.” Kaname said, feeling a bit lost.

Berserker seemed to take it all in stride, though. “Look – why do you think I killed Grendel, and his mother? And the dragon?”

“Because it was a challenge?” Kaname guessed.

Berserker opened his mouth to retort, paused, and then closed it again. “… Okay, yeah.”

Kaname snorted, and Berserker smiled again. “Because it was your responsibility as king?” Kaname guessed again.

“But I wasn’t exactly king when I went to offer Hrothgar my aid,” He said, “And besides – if I wasn’t king, or a prince, or anything, I still would have done it anyway. They were my people.”

“Even though you didn’t rule over them then?”

“Even then.” Berserker said. “Anyone who needs me I claim as my people. I was strong enough, and with them and my thanes at heart victory was inevitable.”

He said it plainly, without a hint of sarcasm, as if laying claim to any he saw suffering was the most logical thing in the world.

“And, because you’ve got serious potential, I’ve decided you should become one of my thanes!”

Again, there wasn’t an ounce of mockery in his voice. “You’re joking.”

“Not at all,” Berserker said. He looked Kaname up and down with a critical eye. “You’ll have to bulk up a lot. I’ll teach you how to use a sword. Or an axe, that’s a respectable weapon too. It’ll be rough, but I know you can handle it.”

The Servant stood up. Even in the dark, Kaname could see the wildness in his smile, the way his face twisted into something sharp toothed and dangerous, like a wolf you weren’t sure was going to greet you or eat you. “Training starts when we get back. Look forward to it, Master.”

//

_Higlac is my cousin and my king; the days of my youth have been filled with glory!_

Kaname’s dreams snapped into focus after that.

He saw the monsters, in all their horrible glory. Grendel was the most visceral of all of them. Its massive misshaped form bent in on itself, and its long arms and grasping bladed claws swiped blindly as its twisted flesh was set aglow by the hearth fires.

_My people have seen my strength for themselves! Have watched me rise from the darkness of war, dripping with my enemies’ blood!_

He (they) faced the creature with nothing less that jubilation, eager for the challenge like a horse chomping at the bit. His people were at his back, and they could be nothing less than defiant. 

_I hunted in the blackness of night, killing monsters one by one; death was my errand and the fate they had earned!_

(He) (They) (Kaname) (Beowulf) faced Grendel, and his mother, and the dragon, and oblivion, and said, no. This far, and no farther. You will not take any more from my people than you’ve already taken, and we will fight to the last to make it so. 

_I, alone and with the help of my men, will purge all evil from this hall!_

//

Synchrony was hard work, but they were slowly getting the hang of it.

Chief to achieving this was Kaname changing how he worked with Berserker. He realized he was treating a hammer like a scalpel, expecting him to execute finely tuned plans that clearly went against his nature. Kaname trusted Berserker to his own judgment, giving more general instructions and directing him as part of their whole party.

In return, Berserker slowly began to listen to more of his instructions (that was to say, any of them). Beyond that, he seemed more at ease, speaking with Kaname and consulting him like a true ally.

It felt surprisingly satisfying, like finally unraveling a complicated puzzle.

At the end of yet another endless day, Fujimaru smiled at him and said, “See? Told you you’d get it.”

They weren’t in perfect step yet, and might never get there in the time they had. 

But they were getting closer. Poem and poet flowed together in symphony.

The bond was new, but it felt strong – resilient, like something wounded and bleeding but still holding its head up high, refusing to lay down and die.


End file.
